hello
little bee
come sit over here
right beside me
atop this hill
under the blooming tree.
let's let time drain
and talk about things
like politics and rain
let's hope that we'll see
each other again.
but my heart fills with dread
when a voice in my head
says the next time i sit here
you'll surely be dead
so goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
here are the words trapped in my head
Poetry"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." ~ Robert Frost. Most of my emotions have barely found thoughts, but here are the words I've found so far. ~ p o e t r y b o o k ~
